


Knighted

by UnrealRomance



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, MGDA, Modern Girl Dropped in Asgard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: Modern Girl Dropped in Asgard with a twist at the beginning. This is so AU it's not even recognizable as anything in the canons.Those of you who've read my stories know how I work. Even if there was a plot in the canon I was following-- there'd be so much different it'd be a whole new thing.I change canon at my whim. Bow before me, mere mortals. Hehehehe.





	1. Chapter 1

Okay, not one of my better dreams, but close enough.

Younger Loki, looking all innocent and unburdened for the most part- like from the beginning of the first Thor movie- is standing in front of me, but he's not just standing there. No, he's kinda got my throat in his grasp and is holding me against the stone wall behind me.

I can feel his hand wrapped around my windpipe, the pain- the crushing strength of his hand- my lungs burning from a deficit of air. I haven't had dreams this vivid before and I'm pretty sure pain isn't supposed to be a 'thing' in dreams. Right? I'm not so much clawing at his hand around my throat as I'm just holding onto his wrist.

Marveling.

It's probably a bad thing that so long as he's in my dreams at all, I don't mind that he's apparently killing me.

"Who sent you here, mortal?" He doesn't seem to realize he's squeezing the life out of me. "Why enter the palace with no way to hide if you are a spy…?" He trails off and frowns at me. "Ah." His expression clears and his fingers loosen.

Just enough I can take a big gasp of air to fight off the black eating away at my vision. "L…Lo…" I cough and strangle on the 'k' in his name.

"Loki, stop!" Frigga comes running from one of the rooms beyond the hallway we're standing in.

"Sorry." I whisper as I sink to the floor after he releases me. Still coughing in between breaths.

"Who is she?" Loki turns to his mother like she should know.

My dreams usually have a self-contained logic or something so she should at least have some idea.

"I don't know, but she feels...somewhat familiar." Is not what I expected to hear. "She is just a mortal and can do us no harm. I will see to her."

"Mother." He says- in exasperation -as she walks over to me, bypassing him with fretting hands. You know those gestures you do, fluttering fingertips when you want to help someone? Except hers are accompanied by glowing golden light.

"Magic…" I think I breathe that a little too enthusiastically- like really, I'm embarrassing myself in a dream. Coma dream. Hallucination. Whatever the hell this is.

She gazes at me for a moment as it reaches out and soothes the pain in my throat. "Magic." She agrees with the smallest smile.

"Mother, what's happening?" Thor's voice makes an appearance and I groan in disappointment without thinking.

I could do without Thor-jackass-not-yet-redeemed and I can _especially_ do without the Allfather, Odin-sacrifice-one-son-to-make-the-other-a-better-king- that was probably too long a name.

"I believe some thread of Fate may have gotten tangled up with something and deposited a mortal on our doorstep." She says, so seriously. Like threads of fate are a real thing- and oh. They probably are in Asgard. Shit, can she see mine? Can they read my mind?

' _Don't think about the copious amounts of Loki sex you've written into your fics and read in other fics-shit! I'm thinkin' about it!_ ' It's so awkward to remember I've read about them all over and over- mostly Loki but still, I know these people and they don't know me and Loki is standing there watching me with those sparkling green eyes-

I might have to smack myself to get back to normal thought processes.

"A mortal? How did she get here if not through the Bifrost?" Thor turns and walks off toward another door. "I will speak with Heimdall!"

"You do that, brother." Loki mutters a little, looking indulgent.

I snort a little bit and drop my head when he looks at me. "Sorry."

"Thor tends to like problems with easy answers." Frigga says, lips curled in a very mischeivous way when I glance up at her. "He is a dear boy."

"Tall, blonde, muscled to the teeth…" I list off as the pain recedes from my throat completely. Hell, it feels better than before. "So according to stereotyping- he's either a gentle giant or a colossal ass."

A harsh cough that sounds like a cut off bark of laughter from Loki who is looking anywhere but at the two of us when we both turn our eyes to him.

Frigga sighs a little. "He is somewhere in the middle of that, I suppose."

"Oh joy." I respond. "So if I'm not thrown in the dungeon I can look forward to figuring out _that_ ratio."

"Why would you think we would throw you anywhere?" Frigga asks, that small smile never disappearing. "Your arrival wasn't exactly expected…but I have a sneaking suspicion I know why your energy feels so…strange."

I blink at her. "What? What about my energy?"

"It is too bright, too much. Like you've been filled with it over and over-ah." She stops and her eyes brighten as her face settles in a brilliant grin. "I see! You are the first Mortal to become a Valkyrie in a very long time."

"A…what? No, I'm not a Valkyrie." I respond with a nervous laugh. "Am I? They're like angels who take warriors to heaven in the stories."

Loki scoffs.

Frigga smiles indulgently, "it isn't surprising you wouldn't know. Valkyries do not remember their training or the decision to become a Valkyrie. They do not remember even being considered if they decide not to."

"What, seriously?" Okay, pain and now a big nothing of memory that yawns on for a long amount of time. When I focus, I can feel flashes of familiar things, things I should remember. Valkyrie…sounds right. But I can't remember why. "Shit. I remember something."

The weight of it and the balance and the swing-

"What?" She asks with parted lips, showing off her pearly white teeth in an excited grin. "What do you remember?"

"Something in my hand, swinging it." I motion with my arm and then stop to stare at it. "Whoa. I'm muscular. When the fuck did that happen?"

"Mind your tongue!" Loki snaps, glancing at Frigga.

Frigga giggles a little, "I am no child, Loki. I can handle profanity."

"No, he's right. Swearing is kinda lazy and unintelligent." I grimace. "Just sometimes, it feels so _right._ " And then I grin at her.

She laughs. "Do you know who I am?" She's still sort of squatting in that really ladylike way that queens have apparently perfected.

"Frigga and Loki. And the blonde was Thor. Is the Allfather asleep or something?" I ask. That's what they call Odin, right? Allfather?

There is a pause before Frigga shakes her head. "No, he is…resting but has not entered his Odinsleep."

"No, I meant. Like asleep. For the night." I snort. "That must get confusing for you."

"How much do you know of us?" Loki's a little on guard again, which is- you know, understandable.

"I know human legends, but I don't think a lot of them are gonna be accurate." I respond, grinning. "Lovely to meet you, Loki."

Surprise in the small twitch of his brows, but no other signs of it. Damn, he's good. He probably _let_ me see the twitch, too. "And you are?" He's suspicious, but he's less 'DangerDanger!' and more 'weird chick might be crazy'.

I can go with that.

"I'm Erica." I respond, simply. "No special titles or anything. Like you couldn't guess that, right?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Here, this should help with your lingering discomfort." Frigga hands me a small cup of tea and sighs. "Any leftover pain should only be your mind refusing to dismiss it. The tea will soothe your throat and hopefully mitigate anything left." Her speech patterns are oddly…midgardian.

"You're talking a lot like me." I blurt and then take a long gulp of the tea to shut myself up.

"Don't mind me, my dear." She smiles, "I adapt to the situation. I have spoken with mortals before, and the disparity in our manners of speech seemed to unnerve them."

"Oh. That's…nice of you," Frigga will cut a bitch to protect her family but she's courteous and kind. She brings to life that saying about how kind people aren't soft. They're just people who make a choice not to be horrible. "I'm sorry, but can I ask some questions?"

"I will tell you all about being a Valkyrie," She says. "Then you may ask whatever you like."

I nod in acquiescence to that and bite my lip.

She gets up to pace, inhaling deeply and then sighing softly. "Valkyries are great warriors in all realms. They come from so many different places- even Midgard in the past. But not so many in the past few centuries." She flicks her wrist as if to wave that off. "You are the first I know of in quite a long time."

"Okay," I mutter and chew my lip a little more as I think about that.

She smiles warmly at me and keeps moving, still talking. "The thing about Valkyries, is…you cannot remember your training. You cannot remember asking to train or the faces of the people who trained you or trained beside you." Frigga laughs and shakes her head. "Even if you meet them and feel that sense of familiarity, you will not know who they were or if you even liked them."

"That's gonna suck, huh." I mutter again.

She laughs a little, "it can be a bit frustrating."

Then she sobers. Moving to stand before me where I'm sitting on the chaise she first asked me to sit down on. "Being a Valkyrie is a very serious obligation. You may simply choose not to bind yourself to a warrior or monarch of any kind- but if you were to do that, you would be given tasks through a connection to the Valkyrie's mental stream." She shakes her head. "You would prefer a monarch or warrior to bind yourself to, I can tell you that much."

"Why?" I ask with some trepidation.

"Because the Valkyrie mental stream is disjointed and confusing at the best of times- to further test the Valkyrie's spirits and lead them only when the time is right to the correct answer. Being bound will mean you will have only one objective, at all times. Protect him. Or her." She purses her lips. "Male Valkyries are almost unheard of and a female Valkyrie choosing a female warrior or monarch is…rare."

"That doesn't sound right," I frown. "There'd have to be Valkyries who prefer women to men, I mean…more than that."

"There are," she replies and tilts her head at me. Then laughs. "The binding is not like your human marriage, or any relationship of the romantic variety. Valkyries choose their monarchs and warriors depending on who they find most worthy. Someone they feel an intimate connection with, in their soul."

"What about women who are born to look like what people consider to be men?" There have to be Transgender Valkyries. I really doubt celestial warriors would be that judgmental.

"They are women," She responds. "No matter what they look like. Men born to look as people expect women to look are men, and therefore do not usually become Valkyries either."

"Is there a rule against that kind of thing?" I ask.

She shakes her head in amusement, "they lack something in most instances that women effortlessly gain or already have. I am not certain what it is. It could be anything. A trait, a skill…something only a woman is able to do."

That makes no sense whatsoever.

"Perhaps it is simply _being_ a woman," She says. "Being connected to the Mother Goddess and the Universe and all that."

"I thought _you_ were the Mother Goddess?" I say unsurely, questioning.

"Oh I am," She responds. "But I am also not. The Mother Goddess will be whoever takes up my mantle once I am gone. It is not in my soul but _is_ my soul. And there was one before me, of course."

"You're an avatar of divinity then?" Way cool.

"Something like that," she says. Still smiling.

"So how long do I have before the mental stream thing tries to screw with my head?" I'm a little nervous about that.

"You have until the first waning of the moon after you appear to your Valkyrie elder." She gestures at herself. "Asgard's moon will wane completely in…" She thinks for a moment. "Oh, I suppose you'll have a few months."

Relief makes me sag into the chaise a little. "Do you know…do they assign us our monarchs or do we choose them?"

"You'd have chosen him before receiving training." She says. "Now all that is left is to find him, ask him to accept you and then bind yourself to him."

"Ask him to accept me." I reply, feeling a rock drop into my gut. "That means he could reject me, right?"

"It isn't done," she says. Waving off my concerns. "I'm certain whoever you have chosen-…" She pauses and thinks for a moment. "Perhaps that is why you are here with me. I have not had a Valkyrie protege since I first bound myself to Odin."

"I thought Valkyrie's and their monarchs weren't romantic or married?" I ask with a quirked brow and a little bit of a smirk.

She laughs, "not traditionally. But there have been cases. It is a very…strange relationship." Frigga sighs deeply and sits back down in the grand seat across from me. All gold and carved so beautifully. "I suppose you will wish to meet the warriors?"

"I actually think…maybe if I could just hang out…like normal-" I pause and order my thoughts. "Maybe just let things happen organically?"

"I suppose it is your decision how you find him," she says, smiling. "I do wonder who it could be. Baldr? One of the Warriors Three?" She mutters to herself.

"What about the royals?" I ask. "The Princes and nobility and stuff?"

"Well, I said monarchs." She replies. "A Valkyrie choosing a prince is usually the precursor to revolution, overthrowing the king and putting the new royal on the throne."

"Oh. Well that's…huh." Something just clicked in my brain.

Loki son of Laufey. Laufey is evil. Loki has a claim to the Jotun throne.

Oh my god, that's why Odin took him.

Not as a token of peace or whatever, but to be the future king of Jotunheim. He thought to raise him with Thor and then put him on the throne somehow…but how? And why did he never tell him? He could've been preparing him for it. Maybe I'm wrong.

Still, it's an interesting theory.

"Shall I show you where you will be staying?" Frigga breaks into my mental gymnastics with a gentle smile. "I have instructed the servants to prepare a room."


	3. Chapter 3

"A Valkyrie!" Thor laughs and sorta whap-grabs my shoulder- shaking me none-too-gently. "I cannot wait to see you in battle."

"Isn't this era in the realms like, as peaceful as it gets?" I ask in confusion. "Who is there to fight?"

"Bandits, rogue military operations and rival kingdoms from other worlds." Loki speaks nonchalantly from nearby, reading a book and sitting on a couch. Lookin' all…relaxed sexy. "Not to mention the occasional god-beast gone mad and magical creatures escaping their usual territories to wreak havoc."

"Oh, is that all?" I ask sarcastically and huff. "Well…I go where you guys go, I guess."

Frigga actually put me with Thor, Loki, Sif and the Warriors Three- on their team. Like their war team. Like I'm actually going to go out and purposefully fight monsters and people twice my size- on purpose.

I mean, I had to have known this was going to be a thing that'd happen when I agreed to become a Valkyrie, right? So I had to have had my reasons for going on anyway-

And glancing over at Loki again, sitting by himself off to the side of the room away from everyone else reminds me that I probably took every chance I could to save him. No matter what it would mean for me. I have to have that kind of conviction now, too.

"Hey Loki, what are you reading?" I walk over to his little corner and I can feel their eyes on me. Thor probably, warriors three definitely, Sif maybe.

He looks up from the book with a cross expression. I usually wouldn't walk up to someone and ask questions like this, it's rude and presumptuous. Ugh, I should probably just walk away.

"It wouldn't interest you," which can either be an insult or code-speak for 'go away, vermin'.

So I shrug, "okay." Then I walk across from him so I can sit in a seat in his general vicinity, but not too close and not right in front of him. He can ignore me, but he can also feel free to talk to me if he wants. I'm close enough to the others that they can all talk to me easily without shouting or otherwise disturbing him, I hope.

"So what's your specialization?" one of the warriors three, the pretty boy? Was his name…Fandral?

"I dunno," I respond. "I have no recollection of my training whatsoever…which I've been told is normal. Unnerving, but normal."

"Sparring then!" Thor claps his hands together loudly with glee. "And we shall see what it is that you can do, Valkyrie."

"My name's Erica, Thor. Remember?" I ask as I'm hauled excitedly out of my seat and then toward what I assume is the hall that will lead to a sparring ring somewhere.

"Come, Loki- you do not want to miss this, do you?" Thor calls back over his shoulder and I glance back just in time to see Loki sigh, close his book and stand.

Then Thor's yankin' me around the side of the doorway and my view of Loki's cut off, damn it.

... ... ... ...

So, I'm not as strong as Asgardians, or so I've discovered…but I'm actually kind of  _close_.

Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun were my first opponents, then Sif and then eventually Thor- and I lost to all of them.

I'm flat out on my back in the sparring ring when the end is called and I just stay there, arm flung over my face. Gasping for air. "Ugh…"

"Perhaps she's a sorcerer? Like Loki?" One of them asks. Volstagg, I think.

"Valkyrie defend the defenseless," Hogun. "Perhaps her abilities are distant unless she requires them to protect."

"Or perhaps she's simply a terrible Valkyrie," Loki intones boredly. "May I be allowed to retreat to the library, now?"

"So long as I can come with," I say, raising my hand high in the air. "I'm done people-ing for today." Then I shove myself up and onto my feet. "I won't bother you." I add at his exasperated look.

Fandral huffs, "done  _people_ -ing, what does that mean?"

"It can mean one of two things," I say as I stand and follow after Loki as he heads back toward the library. "Either one: I'm too exhausted to act like a person, or two: I'm done dealing with other people."

And then I grin over my shoulder as I leave the room, tossing out, "you can decide which it is for yourself."

… … … …

The rest of my day is spent being ignored by Loki and reading every book I can find in every language I can recognize. Which…is a lot of them.

That's another thing to ask Frigga about. How I seem to understand almost every language I can get my hands on, and bits and pieces of everything else. Probably part of the training, somehow.

After a while, I have a good idea of some of the social mores in Asgard. Folktalkes tell you more than religious texts ever will. Recent ones are the best.

I mean, in America we had the mother goose fables as well as everything that came before.

All of them seemed to be aimed toward making us into good little workers. The ant and the grasshopper? Used to demonize people who  _can't_ work by making them into people who obviously  _don't-_  by choice.

The tortoise and the hare? Glorifies patience while ridiculing hyperactive-ness and having too much pride in your skills. Humility and drudgery make for more predictable work forces with less chance of your employees quitting because they think they can get a better deal elsewhere.

After all, if you're humble and depressed, would you believe you'd be good enough or that there are even places for you out there?

It's very telling to read fables and see how they've informed the local culture.

"You are reading children's books," Loki slouches in a seat on the other side of the room and his voice is soft, but I can her him perfectly. "Why?"

I quirk a smirk at him, "why not?"

His eyes glance up for barely a moment, "I would hardly find them engaging."

I can tell that was supposed to be an insult, but I shrug it off. This is just how he is. "It's all new to me, and therefore more engaging than it could ever possibly be to you. And you've got a few centuries head start on the whole, studying thing…" I grin, "so you're probably not engaged with most things that aren't incredibly hard to understand."

His expression barely changes. He doesn't really smile, but he's not looking quite so harsh as before. "Hm."


	4. Chapter 4

I stand dumbly for a handful of seconds before I fully comprehend what I'm seeing.

It's only like, an hour after breakfast? And Loki disappeared- and Thor said, 'he's likely sparring with the soldiers…' and since I was already walking away, all I heard after that was his subtle chuckling and the other warriors asking him if I was even really awake.

I'm not a morning person. I'm a night owl, so waking up in the morning is already distasteful to me. Waking up period is kind of a distasteful affair for me, though. I prefer the warm, heavy weight of sleep to the cold slap in the face of wakefulness.

So I went off, looking for Loki. Too many people had tried to talk to me over breakfast, I needed somebody to be completely silent with- and Loki scares people away pretty effectively.

I mean, I've only spent like, one afternoon with the guy, but people seem to naturally avoid him. Which is sad and kind of maddening in its own way, but hey, at least that means there's not a lot of noise around him.

And then I walk into the barracks and blink at the sight of Loki being straddled by an extremely large Asgardian man.

That wouldn't be weird all on its own, but his hand is wrapped around Loki's throat. He's clawing at the guy's arm, eyes watering and face turning a shade of red that can't be healthy.

"The fuck are you doing!?" I shout and walk into the room, suddenly wide awake and pissed.

The guy releases Loki in a sudden move that says he wasn't supposed to be doing that- but he doesn't look repentant. He looks at me with perked brows, "oi, you're that Valkyrie bird, aren't ya?"

"Get. Off. Him," I grit through my teeth.

"I'm fine," Loki strangles, chokes and coughs.

"If this is like, a consensual sadomasochism thing, you need to say so-" I point at said asshole still straddling him while I stare down at Loki, "because otherwise, he needs his ass beat."

"Ha!" the guy laughs. "The princeling asked me to spar. I won, that's all."

"Did you not hear me?" I stomp over to stand eye-to-eye with him. And since he's on his knees, he's probably pretty freaking huge, "get off of him!"

And what follows was a patronizing pat on the head from the asshole which led to his arm being broken in two places and his face smacked into a marble column until Loki could haul me away from him.

I come to afterwards, because in the moment all I could register was blind rage…and now I'm on the floor, lying on top of Loki as he recovers from his ordeal and from yanking me off of a guy before I could murder him…

His arm is still wrapped around my waist when he starts growling in my ear, "I could have handled that." His voice is so hoarse.

"I'm sure you could've murdered him and made it look like an accident, or maimed him quite effectively," I respond, still trying to catch my breath. "But _god_ Loki, has this happened before? Why are you so chill about this?"

His arm flops off of my waist and he shifts until I'm flopping on the floor next to him, neither of us particularly good to move. "We need to get a healer, before he dies from some sort of…brain trauma you inflicted on him. Mother isn't going to like that you disciplined a soldier without permission."

"Disciplined a soldier?" I ask wearily, turning over- more flopping, really -to look at him.

His hair is all over the place, god, why is he so beautiful? "That's what it's called when you beat someone down so completely for doing something you find objectionable. And as you are an unofficial member of the army and technically above him in rank…yes. It counts," he says.

I'm caught staring at him for a second, " _obviously_ you need a new sparring partner."

He huffs, "no one else is going to agree now."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Part of the reason they do, is so they can trounce me," he says matter-of-factly. "Putting a prince on his back and forcing him to concede, if they can- and now they'll think you'll be after them."

"I absolutely will be," I answer with some indignant spirit allowing me to sit up and lean over him a bit. "Loki, you shouldn't let them treat you like that. Why can't you just spar with _Thor_?"

He laughs a bit self-deprecatingly, "you think…the Crown Prince of Asgard…has time for that?" He swallows and his eyes close as he does, in a flinch. "I was doing just fine on my own, thank you. I don't require your assistance, _Valkyrie_." His eyes open as he says that last word- like it's something that should insult me or something.

"Well of course you don't _require_ it," I snap. "But you're the least annoying person in this whole damn fortress and I get bored easily," my nose wrinkles up all on its own as I talk. "If you're too beaten up to sit in the library and bullshit with me, what else am I supposed to do with my day?"

His lip curls a bit, "forgive me for denying you your entertainment."

"Loki," I say and then pause, sighing. "You shouldn't be treated like this."

"I'm not going to break from a bit of rough handling," he says.

"Just because you can _handle_ it, doesn't mean-" I cut myself off and growl, shoving myself up onto my hands and knees, then onto my feet, weaving a bit and stumbling for the doorway. "I'll get a fucking healer, just stay there."


	5. Chapter 5

Loki _doesn’t_ stay there, of course not.

I find him in his bedroom, treating his own wounds with what looks like a full suite of healing implements. He even has his own set of forceps-- which begs the question of what kind of injuries he gets from these sparring sessions and how the fuck he thinks it _okay_ -

“Sit still,” I smack his hands away and dab at a cut on his cheekbone where the bastard hit him hard enough to break through the skin.

“I can do this myself,” he says in resignation. He’s done fighting me, but he doesn’t like it.

“Loki, do I strike you as particularly unobservant?” I ask.

“You strike me as intensely _annoying_ ,” he says.

I huff and spread some of that weird glittery cream on the cut on his face. It immediately starts to heal-- _amazeballs_.

“Yeah well, I can tell perfectly fine that you can do things for yourself. When someone helps you, it isn’t always going to be about compassion or pity or whatever it is you’re thinking. And I’m sorry, okay? I was just so intensely _pissed off_ that I kind of…disappeared in my own head for a minute. Sparring isn’t supposed to be like that, Loki.”

“My enemies are not going to play nice,” he responds sardonically.

Then surprisingly, turns his head without fighting me when I nudge his jaw with my knuckles.

“Your allies _should_ , unless you _ask them not to_ ,” I say. “If you’d asked him to go at you like he was trying to kill you-- it’d be different, but you didn’t, did you?”

“I’ve never had to ask,” he says.

He doesn’t even say it like it makes him sad. It’s just a fact of life to him. Flippant and a little bit sarcastic.

I stare at him for a minute and then tug on the front of his armor, “loosen the throat part, whatever it’s-- is that what’s called a gorget?”

He sighs and reaches up to unfasten some things…complex things-- and then he pulls the entirety of his upper armor apart and he’s left in his underarmor…and…

“Shit…” I stare at the dark purple bruising around his throat with horror probably oozing from me. “How are you still alive?”

He coughs and clears his throat, “this isn’t enough to kill any Asgardian. This is barely…” his throat strangles him a little.

“Don’t talk anymore, until I fix it,” I spread some of that glittery stuff over the entirety of his neck, spreading it through his hair in the back, even. I don’t want a single bruise left behind. “How deep does this stuff go? You can just nod or shake your head, can it heal inside your throat?”

He coughs again and shakes his head, probably trying to speak and then failing-- then being unable to admit that, he just pretends he’s doing as I asked. Cause I don’t see him taking direction all that well, and that was too easy.

“Something else here I should give you to swallow, I’m guessing?” I say leadingly and back up, hovering my hand over the tray with all his implements and jars on it.

He gestures at a small container that I open up to find tea leaves inside of, “got a kettle or something for these?”

He looks over to the fireplace on the other side of the room and makes a gesture, flames bursting and lighting up the logs. He turns back around to find me staring. “What?” he asks, coughing again.

“Could you show me more magic?” I ask. “I mean-” I pause and feel myself flush. “We don’t have…I’ve never seen…I like magic, do you mind showing me?” I say, extremely embarrassed.

“I forget how easily fascinated mortals are with it,” he says dismissively. “As it is, I am not a trained pony.”

“I didn’t demand, I asked,” I huff as I walk over to the teakettle thing hanging over the fire. It’s already got water in it, just need to add… “How much do I put in?”

He snorts and then coughs, “can’t you make tea?”

“Sure, but usually it comes in a clean little bag that you can remove and instead of gritty grossness at the bottom of your cup, it’s just liquid,” I respond. “Is there a reason you guys haven’t adapted modern conveniences? Besides you know, ‘aesthetic’,” I say that last part with something like jazz hands.

He looks away from me, licking his lips and clearing his throat, “you will have to show me what you mean.”

I quirk a brow at him, “mean by what?”

He purses his lips slightly and _god_ that’s unfair- “I don’t particularly _like_ the gritty remains left in my tea after I drink it,” he says.

I blink, “oh. I can get teabags, I’m sure. Frigga probably has Earth connections, that woman could pull a moon out of her ass, I’m sure.”

He coughs as I turn back to the kettle. “Are you always this crass?”

“Usually,” I answer flippantly. “Are _you_ always this self-destructive?”

There’s a silence and I turn back around with the little pot of leaves to see him staring kind of off into space.

I walk across the room and set the pot down, finally jarring him out of whatever thought he got caught up in.

“I’m gonna go, you can drink your tea and take a nap, and you _should_ ,” I flick my wrist at his expression of irritation. “But you’re gonna do whatever you want. I tried,” I pop a shrug and walk to the door. Opening it and walking through in a smooth movement that kind of perplexes me.

I normally bump into doors or smack myself with them in the face, in the chest…I guess suddenly-good balance and gracefulness is just part of the Valkyrie package?


	6. Loki POV

“I can’t believe I missed it!” Thor gesticulates wildly. “Was she everything the stories say Valkyries are meant to be?”

My brother is at times…inelegant. I ignore these moments unless he is directly vexing me. I am vexed, but it’s not his fault…I shouldn’t take it out on him. No matter how good it would make me feel…

“She was enraged and incredibly strong. I don’t know what else to tell you, brother,” I respond.

“Ach,” Thor huffs. “You were never the type to glory in fighting prowess. Tricks and magic and cleverness, that’s all you’re about. I should ask the soldier, he’d have a better account.”

“He’s currently being healed from a skull fracture, I don’t believe he’s quite coherent enough for that,” I reply. Internally bristling at everything that has just spewed forth from my brother’s mouth. “And I’d rather be clever than a witless buffoon with a big hammer.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Loki,” Thor responds with that look. I hate that look. Kicked puppy and indignant prince, it makes me both sorry and not sorry. “You only ever pay attention to things that I wouldn’t find interesting.”

“I feel quite the same,” I reply.

And then there is a larger grin on Thor’s face and my entire body coils, prepared for him to tackle me, as he is wont to do when he feels playful.

But no, it’s much worse.

“She was defending you, yes?” he asks.

My eyes flatten and my fingers curl more tightly around the book I was reading before my brother decided to barge in on me. “I don’t need defending.”

He flicks his wrist, “I’m certain you do not.” That soothes only a little. “But she did regardless, yes? She seems to have attached herself to you.”

“Apparently I am the only person quiet and scary enough to suffice for her needs,” I reply glibly, going back to my book. “I scare away the loud people and don’t talk.”

“And she would do the same for you,” he says jovially.

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Is there a point you are getting to?”

“She wants to be friends with you, Loki.”

I look up then and see a very serious look on my brother’s face. My brother is seldom serious. Wrathful, frequently, but not often serious.

“What of it?” I ask, bristling again.

“Loki…” he turns and sits in the armchair she usually occupies across the small space between stacks. It…makes me twitch, for some reason. “I know you do not find it easy to make friends.”

“I don’t need friends,” I respond waspishly. Stinging at that observation.

“Need or want,” he shrugs. “She wants to be friends. Think of the benefits!” he says with a bright grin. “She is apparently very loyal and dedicated to protecting her friends. Even if you’ve no need of it, she could always be a capable partner in battle.”

“She can barely access her abilities except to nearly kill soldiers of our own house,” I respond. Shocked at the notion of allowing that…that…uncontrolled force of nature guard my back.

“Well, you do sometimes require aid for your tricks and I am tired of being the unwitting stooge,” he says. “She seems the type to like that sort of thing, yes?”

“Tricks?” I ask and then chuckle, “you mean how I punish people for acting like fools?”

“Yes the little, eh, pranks,” He gestures unconcernedly. “If she is the type to beat a man near to death for her friends, she would likely help you do anything you like.”

Now that _is_ something to consider.

Thor always manages to fumble my plans in one way or another. Not enough to keep them from succeeding much of the time…just enough to be annoying.

A knowing pawn who would refrain from straying the path _would_ be preferable.

Thor senses my hesitance and leans forward in his seat, eagerly. “And those you can’t scare away alone, you can combine your stares of death to ward away, yes?”

Rolling my eyes, I go back to my book with the intention of finishing it this time. It’s a rather old tome that I’ve read many times, but then…there aren’t many things I _haven’t_ read in here.

I may pick up another fictional account if I get desperate enough for stimulation and the last time I did that, I discovered the author didn’t finish the series. I _hate_ that.

“This is a moot point, brother,” I inform him. “Whether I tolerate her or not, she is refusing to leave me be.”

I remember the horror and the shock on her face when she saw my throat, ringed in bruises. The anger in her eyes when she came upon the soldier, sleepiness bleeding away all at once.

And then that…tenderness…in her touch-

I snap my book closed and stand up as Thor does. “I need to spar with someone, are you free?”

He grins brightly and smacks me on the back, “you can spar with all of us, if you wish.”

_Soft fingertips gently spread something cool and soothing over my bruised, overheated skin-_

“I believe I shall take you up on that today,” I reply.

It’s better to forget. To push it away. To push _her_ away.

It’s always better that way.


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm not all that great at lying and subterfuge, Loki," I'm following him anyway, though, aren't I?

"No lies necessary," he replies. "You would simply go where I tell you, when I tell you, and not ask questions."

"Why am I not asking questions?" I ask.

He actually chuckles at that, though he doesn't look back at me.

Good thing too, because I'm not sure what face I'm making.

"Denying involvement usually goes better when the person denying has no idea what was actually going on," he informs me.

"Well, yes…" I say, slowly. "But I don't wanna deny involvement. I _am_ involved."

And that makes him pause in the hallway to look back at me. "Your self-preservation instincts could use some work, I think."

"I don't really have one of those," I reply. "I mean, I run and scream when bad things are happening and everything…but I usually grab someone and yank them along with me. I have others-preservation instincts. Is that a thing?"

"It is, and I am so sorry for you," he says, completely deadpan. "Your end will be incredibly dramatic and tragic. At least it won't be boring, I suppose."

"Well, so long as I'm goin' to hell, might as well throw myself bodily down the porthole," I shrug.

We both laugh a moment later, like it caught us by surprise. It did me, I'm not so sure about him.

I don't normally get to banter dark humor with people, they all think I'm weird or that I take it too far or just expect me to laugh at their jokes without contributing.

Think I just fell a little bit more in love with this jackass and that is incredibly concerning because I was already pretty gone on the guy.

How much further is there to go!?

Loki sobers abruptly, like he's just realized what he's doing and really really wants to stop. He looks mildly embarrassed, but he's not blushing or anything so I might be imagining it. "I don't want to spend all day explaining everything I'm doing and why."

"You could just give me the footnotes?" I say with a shrug, still smiling and feeling warm. "Go here, do this, person did x and deserves it. Like…that'd take maybe two minutes if you got really passionate about it."

He turns back around and starts walking again, "…fine. Go into the dining hall, imply that Malvarsson cannot out drink Mathersson and then leave once they begin their little contest. They're rivals, so it won't take much. After they're properly drunk, I will do the rest."

"What'd they do, anyway?" I remember that thing with the snakes in the cup from the Thor movie and it seems like Loki lashes out at people who threaten his place in the family more often than anything else.

Which is weird, considering Loki apparently looks and acts more like Odin than Thor does.

Maybe it's just because he was born second, who knows? Maybe everyone _but_ Loki knows he was adopted?

"Many things I do not wish to discuss at length," he replies. "As we've minimal time before they leave the hall."

"Afterwards?" I ask. "You don't have to tell me anything, but I am…curious."

He deliberates on that for a few moments as we walk down the hall, and then, "afterwards."

… … … …

It took more than a subtle question about who was the better drinker to get them drunk.

In fact it took me proposing a drinking contest and mentioning that I had no idea if my Valkyrie abilities made me more resistant to alcohol or other intoxicants.

So I'm a little buzzed by the time Loki shows up.

And the only reason I know it's Loki, is because she's wearing the same colors. And has the same eyes and general…face shape. Like, the…the shape of the cheekbones and stuff.

I mean, I know Loki's genderfluid- am I supposed to keep calling them a He or should I call them a She when they're in a feminine form? He usually goes by 'he'-

God, this is hard to figure out when I'm drunk. If I was sober, it'd probably be blaringly clear.

I'm gonna go with 'they' until they correct me otherwise, I think.

Their body is like out of a dream. Their hips are wide, their waist is small and their chest is ample, but it's…all very taut with muscle. The dress falls elegantly over their dips and curves in a way that is positively sinful and an incarnation of all those old legends of succubi.

Enticing.

And as someone who usually only finds themselves attracted to masculine forms, this is incredibly confusing and strangely arousing for me. Loki doesn't wear clothes like that when they're in masculine form.

If they did, I think I'd have a heart attack. If they wore something that showed off their collarbones and shoulders at the same time, I'd have a heart attack.

There's something…weird, about the way Loki saunters up to the guys they intend to lead away somewhere. Their hips swing and their hair swishes, but it's…it's like their face and body are hard to see clearly.

I'm not drunk, so much…I mean, I am. I'm less drunk than those two guys, though. I was able to stop drinking altogether at one point without anyone noticing and I'm just…buzzed. Incredibly buzzed.

So, I shouldn't have weird vision. Especially not just centered on Loki and nothing else.

Oh! It's a glamour-thing, right?

I lick my lips and watch them walk up to the men, wondering if I'm attracted to them because they're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, or because they're Loki.

It's probably because they're Loki. Devastating good looks have never really effected me like this before. Mostly I'd get a little jealous, sighing over my own imperfect physique- and kind of forlorn that I wasn't a good enough artist to paint them and immortalize their beauty.

I'm feeling a little of that now, along with the distinct pull I always feel towards Loki.

As they somehow manage to flirt and taunt the men into following them, I watch. And I see the danger they're putting themselves in and…get weirdly jumpy about it.

I mean, they had to know those two guys would be handsy right? I shouldn't jump in to defend them. They'd be mad and insulted again, right?

Fuck it, I'm following them.

And that's how I end up following behind Loki and their quarry, all the way to the gardens, outside the main hall- instead of going to my room and getting to bed like I should.

They do something to the men, hand them a bottle of wine to chug down and chat with them until they both pass out, unconscious.

Loki smiles and it's a very…mischief and evil kind of smile.

It makes my heart stop, a little bit.

Since the two men are kind of…unconscious. I feel safe enough to leave them to it.

I'm still a little worried they might wake up and catch Loki doing…whatever it is they're doing…

But I back away from the gardens all the same.

Loki looks up and catches sight of me.

I turn on my heel to leave before they can glare at me or something. ' _I_ _know, okay? I'm going_.'


	8. Loki POV

I am still irked that she felt the need to follow me, but as it stands…

Thor was correct. This is much more convenient. Not only did she carry out her task, she _improvised_ when her instructions were insufficient. I suppose I will miss the rush of working around Thor's bumbling. I'm certain if I asked, she could orchestrate obstacles against my plans to test me, however.

And she would likely do it in a more expedient and sure way than Thor would have, with his unknowing sabotage.

"Ugh," she wrinkles her nose and sips at the mug of tea I was persuaded to make for her. "They had it coming."

After the fourth time she tried to _cuddle_ with me.

Being in a feminine form apparently invites different behaviors from humans. I will remember that.

Also, she's drunk.

"Indeed they did," I respond. Thrilled to finally have someone agree with me, on that.

Erica may be a bit too touchy when she's drunk and overly affectionate in her words and caretaking otherwise…but besides all that, she is a good companion.

Arguably better than any I've had, in fact.

_Pretending to be popular now, are we? What other companions have you had that weren't attached to Thor?_

Rolling my shoulders and sipping at my tea, I ignore the voice of self-doubt that plagues me. "Would you be amenable to doing this again?"

"Sure," she shrugs. "Just make sure we're not doing it to people who don't deserve it." And then she snorts and mutters softly to herself, "look at who I'm talking to."

"Beg your pardon?" I ask, voice brittle as glass.

She hums, unknowing, not noticing my tone. "Oh it's a thing. On Earth. With Trickster gods. They like to bug assholes for picking on the weak."

A sliver of something electric licks up my spine as my surprise makes itself known.

So that was a compliment, then. I am…not used to getting those from anyone outside my family. I feel incredibly warm.

I am at once glad that I thought to create my personal glamour to begin with and that I am always wearing it. Also that I added the inability for the glamour to show whether or not my skin was pinking.

I hated being a child with such pale skin in a home where embarrassment was mocked. Now I show none at all.

"I see," is my response.

"You're too pretty," she says.

And I am again thrown. "I am, what?"

"The thing, the…thing that makes you fuzzy, does it make you prettier?" she asks.

I blink slowly, "I don't believe so?"

She sighs in dejection, "hate you and your perfect body. Goddamn."

I laugh, and it is a surprise. As it was before. "Perfect body?"

Her hands gesture at me with a jerking motion, flicking her wrist, "tiny waist, big hips, wide shoulders, wiry muscle- masculine or feminine you're just the ideal. On Earth, anyway." She regards me curiously. "What's the ideal on Asgard and…the…the nine realms?"

The fact that she can retain information, become curious and follow her train of thought to completion even while intoxicated is interesting. Perhaps because she is a Valkyrie? Is her tolerance much higher than normal humans? I wonder how they accomplish that.

"It differs," I hedge. I don't want to compare myself to the ideal of Asgard any more than I already do. That is not a dark hole I wish to throw myself down, tonight.

She shrugs, "doesn't matter, anyway. Beauty is a made-up concept. Created by the rich to oppress the poor and men to oppress women or vice versa, depending…" she stumbles over that. "Well, depending on the standards and who's in charge in that society."

"That is…an astute observation," I am surprised at her understanding of the complexities of issues such as these. From what I'd gathered, Earth was still caught in the dark ages of science and everything else was stalled as a result. "And so what is the point in telling me how beautiful you think I am?"

She frowns, "it's made up, but we grew up expecting to meet the expectations. Not saying anything invites doubt. Saying something erases doubt. So I say what I think and you know I mean what I say or I wouldn't say it."

Curious perspective, "I suppose."

"Could I brush your hair?" she asks, suddenly blinking at me wide-eyed like the most excited child. "I want to brush your hair."

I have no idea how to respond to that. I believe I shrug. It's an uncertain movement of my shoulders that comes from confusion rather than acquiescence, but she is grinning, so I suppose that is an answer.

She puts her mug down and carefully watches her step, reaching out to grab something if she feels unbalanced. She is remarkably aware of herself.

I hadn't noticed before. The way she seems so controlled, even when she is not. Usually thinking before she speaks, and if not- she at least analyzes the words that come out of her mouth afterwards. She is aware of herself in a way that few people are. Almost obsessively so, now that I am looking back to think on it.

I am startled by the feeling of fingertips in my hair, but subside into stillness as she rakes my hair back away from my face.

My feminine form is not much different from the masculine. The only differences being the sex itself, and its characteristics…and how I wear my hair. If I were intending to be recognized, I would wear the tiara that mimics the horns of my helmet.

As it is, I left it to curl slightly about my face.

And then, there is my brush. Sliding effortlessly through my oily tresses. She works her way up from the bottom, humming a tune I don't recognize, and tugging at my hair in ways that signal she is braiding bits of it. The fact that she releases them, pulls them back apart and begins brushing again means she is simply playing about with it.

"Is my hair so interesting?" I have no experience with…social grooming. My mother used to comb my hair, but I begged off of that long ago.

Difficult to feel comfortable asking your mother to touch something that makes you hate yourself

My hair is…dark. Lank. Shiny to the point of looking greasy. The product I use to slick it back out of my face gives it a drier appearance, for a while.

Thor and Mothers' hair is…different. Mother has such a fetching brown and Thor…well. He isn't naturally that sunny-blonde, but the texture and volume of his hair are above mine in quality.

"It's the depths of the ocean and space without stars," she replies. Surprisingly poetic. "I like the dark, and the color black."

An odd woman, indeed.

Her fingertips return to my hair, pressing into my scalp as she hums and I feel…something curious. As if something is draining out of me, something cold and sharp and heavy.

My awareness begins to bleed away and I wonder what magic she is working…


	9. Chapter 9

I think I went too far last night.

Drunk and kind of overly affectionate- I brushed Loki's hair.

And now, today, he's acting funny around me. I mean, not in any obvious way, but there's this…

Catch? To the way he's interacting with me, now. As if he's expecting something and there's almost this sense of disappointment or relief when whatever it is doesn't happen.

Did I do more than I remember doing last night? No…

No, I carried Loki to bed, covered her up in the blankets and left to go to my room. Then I collapsed in bed and didn't get up until Thor knocked loudly on my door this morning.

I remembered that Loki goes by whatever pronouns fit his form, so I'm not freaking out over that anymore.

Those silky black strands slipped through my fingertips with such ease it nearly made me melt to nothing on the spot. I had the urge to take hold of it and pull her head back-

But I had no idea what to do after that. I drew a blank.

If I think about it now, I can imagine more. But if I think about Loki's feminine form, I get…stuck. Unable to go forward.

I've always had this problem, as long as I can remember. I could look at images of beautiful women, naked or not and be pleased by the image- but I was so terrified of what it might mean that I was unable to feel anything else.

Fucked up Christian conditioning has stunted my sexual and emotional growth and caused me to develop some kind of complex and I hate it.

And Loki is now flinching any time he thinks I might come near him. It's mostly in the way his eyelids flutter, as if he's trying not to show how surprised or startled he is, or something.

"You know you can tell me to fuck off, right?" I say in the silence of the library.

Loki is looking at me with the most comically wide eyes I've ever seen him make. "…what?"

"I mean. If I'm making you uncomfortable or you don't want me hanging around you, you can tell me to leave. You've always been kind of cranky about me being around, but I thought that was kinda…just how you are?" I sigh and tug on my ponytail a little, nervously. "But you know I'd leave if you asked, right?"

"Would you?" he asks, and the skepticism like…hurts.

"Yes," I reply. Confused. "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

"Then yes, I would like to be alone," he says. Watching me with a rapt expression.

Like he expects me not to?

And while, it does hurt, that he doesn't want me around…this is why I'm doing it this way. So Loki doesn't get stuck with me if he doesn't want to be.

"Okay," I reply and lick my lips, standing from my seat and marching from the library with a book of Asgardian folk tales clutched in my hand.

I was pushing his boundaries from the beginning, but he never came out and told me to go away. I used to act the way he did towards people. It was…I mean, if people really care, they'll push past the prickly, right?

It's kind of crushing to know he wanted me gone all along and didn't feel safe enough to tell me. That he felt like I'd hang around anyway.

We're gonna be around each other, and I'm still gonna go to the library…but I'm going to grab the books and go and refrain from engaging with him unless he engages  _me_  first.

And it had seemed like he was opening up to me! Not much, just enough to not mind having me around, but still! God, this is disappointing.

I walk through the halls, all the way back to my bedroom, and curl up with my book.

Crying isn't really what I feel like doing, though I probably could if I let myself. It's a feeling more like…I dunno. Like something inside has been squeezed really fucking hard and then released and now it aches.

Is it because of how much I like Loki as a character and how much I identify with him? Or is it a Valkyrie thing?

Or is it maybe that I feel like I love him? I mean, I'm not…I know that it isn't real. I know that feeling is just kind of…infatuation. He was a character, I loved him  _as_  a character.

And now that he's real…I don't even know the real him, yet. So this can't be heartbreak.

What word could I use for it? I like words that describe how I feel, especially bad feelings, it…makes it smaller. Less terrifying and upsetting. If I can put words to it, then it's just a thing that has a name. It's not this amorphous feeling that defies explanation that might destroy me.

It's just a thing that can be named. So what would I call it, if not heartbreak? If not…despair or any of the other words that mean some degree of sad?

Wistful? Maybe a little. Melancholic, a bit. A dash of anger at myself for not thinking of this sooner, yes. Guilt, as I apparently made him feel invaded for so long without realizing what I was doing, yes.

I feel all of those things, but as far as I know, there's no name for the entire mixture.

That bums me out. More than I already was.

Sucks.


	10. Loki POV, Erica POV

I wasn't expecting her to actually  _leave_.

A bit baffling that she didn't take my constant irritation and barbs tossed at her as an implicit order to leave me alone to begin with. To need a verbal confirmation of something she should already have known, is puzzling.

It's better like this. She was- too close. It was too close.

_Fingertips gliding through my hair…scalp tingling and body lax-_

I fell  _asleep_. I woke up in my bed with no memory of having moved. Meaning that she  _moved_ me. No one has done such a thing, gotten so close to my sleeping body…in ages.

The only reason I took her back to my room to begin with, was to explain what they had done. I had agreed to tell her, so it seemed…proper, to get it over with then and there. Right afterwards.

Also, she continued to…touch me. A hand on my arm, leaning into my side, nudging me with her elbow… And I wasn't certain if I wanted-

It doesn't matter. Everything and everyone, always disappoint me. I refuse to let it happen again. If she is distant from me, I will not have to…wait for that eventuality. It is incredibly frustrating to go through that cycle, I refuse to begin it again.

The fact that she didn't argue with me is a bit confusing. My displeasure with her presence never stopped her before. Did she fear that I would seek retribution on her? She should have been aware of that possibility  _well_  before that night.

I pause in my reading as it occurs to me that perhaps she was not aware of the full scope of my pettiness before that night. That she did not realize how little a person must do to incur my wrath. And that perhaps…

She simply doesn't like me.

That she saw something, as everyone always does, that is repulsive- and wanted an excuse to leave that wouldn't leave her feeling guilty for abandoning me.

It's happened before. It's always _annoying_.

Well, I know of plenty of  _other_  things that are annoying. It will make it easier to get it all over with now, anyway.

And now I need to dodge Thor, as he's been looking for me all morning. Two days and it seems my older brother has finally figured out that something has changed.

' _You are too slow, brother._ '

* * *

 Erica POV

 

I spend about two days isolating myself in my room when I'm not required at training with Thor and the Warriors Three and Sif. Mostly Sif.

She's been kicking my ass so much worse lately, because I just can't….get my head in the game.

Today, apparently, they've figured out that I'm not self-isolating  _with Loki_. So now they're…

In my room.

"You need more decoration," Fandral says.

Viewing my very bare room and finding fault with it. That's uplifting.

"She doesn't seem to have much get up 'n go, this morn…" Volstagg says with an overly exaggerated pout. "Mayhaps she  _prefers_ to be thrown about like a doll in the sparring ring."

I huff and curl more tightly into my blankets, covering my face.

I feel someone dip the bed next to me and hear Thor's voice. "Did you and Loki get into a fight?"

I snort and curl tighter.

"That was either a 'no', or 'it was much more than a fight' sound," Fandral quips from across the room. No doubt mentally re-mapping my room.

"If he did something…you can tell us," comes Sif's voice.

And  _that_  is what finally makes me throw off the blanket, sit up and just…

Glare. At all of them.

"What is it?" Thor again.

And this time, I look at  _him_. "He's your  _brother_. Shouldn't you be going to find out if  _he_  needs consoling?"

"Loki's been…scarcely seen around for a few days," Thor replies. "I assumed he was off making mischief with you, when you weren't training with us. Now…I cannot find him. He hides well."

I blink at that, "why would he hide?"

My heart clenches in my chest and I make a pained noise. "Oh. He's hiding  _from me_."

And that's when I curl up in the blankets again.

"No no, don't go back under," Thor tugs at my blankets and I feel Sif sit on the other side of my bed.

"So  _she_  did something," Hogun from across the room. Near Fandral and Volstagg.

"I followed him around, bugged him a lot and didn't think to ask if he actually  _wanted_  me there or not." My voice is probably muffled from being under the blankets, but I bet they can hear me. "And surprise surprise, turns out my attention was unwanted."

"You know you've got like five perfectly serviceable friend-types, right here," Fandral's voice.

And that makes me look outside the blankets again and my lips purse. "I don't make friends with bullies and cliques sicken me."

There is a profound silence as I curl up under the blankets again.

"What did she just call us?" Fandral again, and now his voice sounds funny. Are they laughing at me, now?

"Everyone, out," Thor's voice. "Yes, all of you. Now."

I sigh as I hear the rest of them leaving the room, but feel no movement from Thor. Am I gonna get a talking to, or is he gonna drag me out of bed or what?

The door closes and I hear and feel Thor lean over me. "You know Loki can never actually say what he wants."

Which makes me flip down the edge of the blanket to look at him. "He can damn well say what he  _doesn't_  want."

"No, I don't think so," he says. Grinning when I roll my eyes. "Loki has never been that simple."

"He told me, after I asked, that he would like to be alone," I say. "He didn't leave room for doubt, he didn't make a puzzle of words for me to solve, it  _was_  simple."

And that makes me sit up in bed and frown. "It was too simple for Loki."

"Now, you're getting it," he says.

"But if he wanted me to do something else, why wouldn't he have said something else? Why not give wiggle room or like I said, wordplay?" I look at Thor with confusion while squashing any hope I feel… "What else could he possible want me to do?"

"There is no winning or losing with Loki, or so I've learned." Thor shifts, gets off the bed and walks around it to pace on the other side of my room. "He always makes it so that either way, he both wins and loses. And his opponent, or his family or his friends…also both win and lose. Though the other person may not see it that way."

"What he's…" I flick my wrists in a gesture of confusion. "He pushed me away to make me sad but that's not what he wants so he's also sad and therefore we both lose? But we don't both win."

Thor purses his lips, "if you'd stayed even though he told you not to…you would have won and he would have lost, to your mind, yes?"

I nod.

"To Loki it would've seemed a win for him and a loss for you," he says with some hand gestures. "Likewise, your choosing to leave at his behest would be a win for him and a loss for you. He would also perceive it to be a loss for him that you stayed, because you did not listen to him. And it is a loss for him if you leave because you are gone and you did not realize he wanted you to stay."

I frown and think of…of all the things I know about Loki.

My leaving would be a loss for me because he told me to leave and I listened, but Loki might perceive it as a win because he thinks…

Or also, a loss for me to stay because…

"Oh Loki," I think I'm crying. I hate that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah...well.
> 
> It's about to be...really really interesting.
> 
> If you guys could give me your thoughts on this story, this chapter-- reviews help me get motivated and as I'm fighting my seasonal double depression on top of my usual depression, I need all the help I can get.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr is: Rikadivani.tumblr.com
> 
> Please be sure to comment or kudos or comment just to say 'kudos'! I live for feedback. As all writers do.


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